


Aftermath

by Aziraphale7



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23066491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aziraphale7/pseuds/Aziraphale7
Summary: This was something I had started awhile ago before Season 5 premiered as I had thought about it a lot, and though I never ended up finishing it I wanted to post it because I think it was important to me. I may finish it sometime in the future but for now, I hope you enjoy what it currently is :)
Relationships: Nora Darhk/Ray Palmer
Kudos: 12





	Aftermath

_ There were always jokes that Ray Palmer could light up the darkest of places _ . They seemed a bit redundant now, though most of the team remained unaware truly of his state. They were more so caught up in his and Nate’s nearly side by side revivals that looking further past would be a bit of a bummer. Ray was never the one to bring the party down. ( _ Even those 3 am video games tournaments that everyone loved so much that kept him from sleeping sometimes _ ) Even while his soul had lingered around in hell, he had felt a shifting change within him. At that time it had seemed ever slight, like a stomachache or a split second pain in his chest. Nothing permanent, nothing that would last. His hope had remained in tact despite the atmosphere he had been laid to rest in. His decision was one he would do over. Saving Nate’s life was not something he’d ever regret even if from the outside it seemed like the worst decision he could possibly make. But there was no denying that the odd situation of possession had lasting effects on him. 

The Legend was always one to advocate for leaning on the others when things got tough. They were family after all, they were all in this together no matter what! But...Ray had strayed from that mindset when it came to himself. He wanted them to hold onto the light of the miracles that had occurred rather than whatever struggles he had to endure. He could handle them.  Or he thought he could . Sometimes he’d believe he saw another flicker from the corner of his gaze or within the blurred background of a mirror. Although he had never suffered Neron’s possession directly in technical terms, he had seen flickers and flutters of things that had been done. He would reach as much security as one possibly could in the cold depths of hell and then he’d catch sight of something. It was like an image being forced into your mind, something you could not physically see but could perfectly envision. Emotions that were not his own would claw up inside him, making themselves as well as his connection to Neron well known. It’d leave him out of breath, staring absently ahead until it would pass. 

Nora and John had been the only two to witness him down there. Even they believed him to somehow be his same soft hearted self. Which he was, that aspect of him hadn’t been changed by the grasps of demonic possession. Though by the time they had reached him, and witnessed his eerily  _ normal _ exchange with Savage, ( _ Who knew they had Jenga in Hell anyways? _ ), he had been witnessing and piecing together a timeline of what Neron was doing while inhabiting his body. The deceit he had committed, the people he had hurt in various ways, the words that he spoke so sharply and coldly, the near bringing of the apocalypse. Though the last one he supposed was pretty normal for the Legends at this point. 

He had felt relief at their arrival. He  **knew** someone would wish to save him. Someone had to want to save him right? Perhaps that was what made him cling so tightly to hope in that time. Now that he had been so graciously saved, what he felt was not relief. What he felt was  _ guilt _ .

It was overhanging, lingering in his mind in a way it never had before. It was as though the thoughts, the memory latched onto his mind, digging in in a way that made it impossible to detach. It was like a virus that infected his thought process, and in turn his behaviours. His life before had been positivity for most situations, hope, as that was the way to break through, to be strong. Even amongst intense and prolonged grief and fear, he had held onto that as it was often all he had internally to lean on. It also held the bonus of lighting the darkness for others in his life. His life now was  _ fighting _ . He fought for hope. Though he never voiced such a fight. People didn’t need that weight upon their shoulders during a time of recovery. He’d be alright in time, they had all the time in the universe right? There was no rush for him, there was no need to flock to him to assure him.

Tonight was different though. It was oddly silent, everyone seemingly asleep in sync for once. It wasn’t uncommon for him to not be asleep. Often he’d stay up working on necessary projects and upgrades into the night. But this time he was simply sitting in his room, determining the best possible way to move forward with this. He was being a bit hypocritical if he were honest. He always urged for his teammates to take care of themselves and be healthy, but he had fallen a bit behind on such. Especially in the sleep regard. 

There was someone he had held in mind. Someone who may understand such a foul situation more than anyone else he knew here. They now shared a most unfortunate trait, but...perhaps now they’d be able to truly heal from it. Perhaps that was wishful thinking, as Nora was still incredibly wary of others, understandably so. Ray most often metaphorically was held at arm’s length when it came to her, though he understood such and certainly did not mind it. Being able to be with her was certainly enough for him in the end. He would not force her to open up about such deep cutting events, especially since she seemed to be healing quite well without doing so. 

Almost as if on cue, a flutter of glimmering light caught the man’s attention and dark eyes darted to look at the other side of the room. At the other side of his bed and near his knightly set up, the figure of Nora Darhk steadily appeared from the mist of magic. Though unlike what Ray had often imagined before, it was not at all a graceful entrance. Her heeled shoe seemed to crush into one of various figures and the fairy godmother took a tumble to the floor. Shaking aside the clouds in his mind, Ray swiftly stood to assist her. Nora waved him off, grumbling a bit to herself in what appeared to be a variant of ancient language. “I could feel you thinking about me.” The witch muttered in what seemed to be a bitter manner as she lifted her puffed dress skirt slightly and managed to stand once more. It was still quite evident that she was heavily displeased with the fairy stchick.  _ Perhaps they should consider looking into that soon- _

“Sorry.” Ray immediately apologized, brows furrowing into a look of worry. 


End file.
